Amnesia
by Wicked Wonder
Summary: If you forget everything, what do you remember? Slash lives!
1. chapter 1

Boy Meets World

"Amnesia"

Summary: Does the name help you at all? Seriously, this is a story about someone forgetting everything and everyone... except how to love. (Say it with me now... awwww!)

Rating: PG-13 (language, situations, themes, slashiness)

Disclaimer: If they were mine, TGIF would have a totally different meaning.

Setting: Late 7th season AU.

Series/Sequel: Not yet. Because really, don't I need to chill with the series? smirk

Feedback: Helps me forget who... what I am. the Wicked crew. Love ya, babies!

Note: After the prologue, the tense will shift from past to present. Just so I don't get a lot of people saying that I switched tenses midstream or something.

Prologue

"I think... I'm going to tell them. Tonight." Jack Hunter sat up on the couch and looked over at the other two people in the room.

"You're serious?" Shawn, his brother, questioned.

"Yeah." Jack touched his boyfriend Eric's hand softly. "This thing we have, it's serious, and I really don't want to do the whole 'bring your significant other to dinner and shock the hell out of your parents' thing, you know? So I figure, tell them now, get it over with, and let them calm down before summer rolls around." Jack rubbed a hand over his face. "What do you think?"

Eric sighed as his forehead wrinkled in thought. "If you're sure, by all means. Want me to come with?"

"I appreciate the offer, but I think that this is something that I need to do alone, okay?" Jack stood and grabbed his keys

"Well, if you need anything, call, alright?" Eric put his feet on the coffee table, which Jack playfully shoved off.

"Hey, no killing the furniture while I'm gone. See ya." He kissed Eric before walking out the door.

"Bye," Eric and Shawn chorused while turning their attention to the television.

To say that it did not go well was an understatement.

For an hour straight, Jack's mom and stepdad yelled, cried, quoted scripture, and did everything but beat him physically to get their point across. True, Jack hadn't really been expecting them to take the news calmly, but to react like he was the devil was more then he expected.

"Okay, now, are you going to give up your sinful course?" His stepdad boomed.

"So it's okay to be tolerant and all, but sinful when there's an actual person involved?" Jack stopped and lowered his voice. "I know that you wanted me to grow up and get married and have grandkids. And I still might. Being bisexual isn't the end of the world."

"It's not right, and you know it!" his mother pleaded tearfully.

"Your mother's right." His stepdad's voice was lowered, which made Jack look up, suddenly more alert. A calm Artie in the middle of an argument was never a good thing. "I think you need to go."

"What?"

"As long as you stay with your... boyfriend," and Artie spat out the word, "You aren't welcome here."

Jack's eyes filmed over with tears, but he tossed his head back, not willing to let either one see him get upset. "I see," he said, fighting to keep his voice even. "Well, goodbye then."

He turned to the door and blindly let himself out. Fumbling with his car keys, he fought to open the door. He kept using the wrong keys though, and cycled through the whole ring before finding the right one. Still more than a little upset and angry, he started the car and peeled off down the street, not minding the sound of squealing tires.

As he drove back to campus, his mind kept replaying the conversation. It had started off so well, with his mother happy to see him, and his stepdad at least civil. They had been glad when he had told them that he had made the Dean's list for the last semester of college, and that he had some solid job offers on the table. But then he had said the fateful words 'Mom, Art, I have something to tell you', and look where that had gotten him.

As he thought about the last thing that had been said to him ("you aren't welcome here"), his eyes filled with tears again. He wiped them away furiously, mad that he was crying over people who obviously didn't care much about his feelings. As he swiped at them again, his car momentarily crossed the double line. At the same time, an oncoming car, with the driver on a cell phone, crossed it too.

It would have been funny if it wasn't so tragic.

"Okay, you know who's going to win this one. Xena's gonna wipe Ally all over the floor!" Eric's attention never wavered from the screen.

"Never count out the little ones. They're the ones that fight dirty." Shawn nodded his head knowingly and watched the Claymation fight proceed.

The phone rang, making Eric and Shawn both groan. "Okay, I'll rock, paper, scissors you. 1, 2, 3, go!" Eric threw paper and Shawn put out rock. "Ha ha! Paper covers rock! Go answer the phone, boy."

Shawn got up, grumbling all the way into the kitchen, where the phone was located. He picked up the receiver, ready to get rid of the caller fast so that he could watch the show.

"Hello?"

"Hello. May I speak to Shawn Hunter, please?" An unfamiliar woman's voice asked.

"This is he."

"This is the patient rep at County General Hospital. It's concerning your brother, Jack."

Chapter One

You open your eyes, slowly. The brightness of the room is hurting your head, and all you want to do is cover your eyes with your arm, to block out the light. When you try to raise your arm though, it's heavy and... has something on, in it?

You hear excited voices, high and low ones, chattering excitedly. You want to tell the voices to be quiet, but you're not sure that you understand what they're saying, or if they even speak the same language as you. You're not even sure what language you speak- there's a blank when you try to think of the word that your language is called. But you know that you speak one, and the concept of not knowing what it's called hurts to think about, a little.

Someone comes up to your side and says something. You don't understand the words, but the tone behind it is soothing, so you let yourself drift off again.

The next time you're awake, the people are still there, and the place is a little darker. You open your eyes without trouble, and take in your surroundings without moving anything but your eyes.

The place is lit up, and there are lots of chairs. People are in the chairs, on the floor, and there's one person standing up, leaning against the door. You start studying the peoples' faces, trying to see if anyone looks familiar, but they don't. They look kind though, you decide, so you don't let the fact that no one and nothing looks at all familiar to you bother you too much.

As you gaze around, you notice that one of the persons, the one on the door, points to you and says something in a low voice, which makes the other ones talk excitedly. Soon, a person, dressed in a colorful (you know that it's colorful, but don't know the name for the colors) outfit comes up to you and says something. You look up into the kind face and wonder how you're going to communicate the fact that you can't understand a single word that the person is saying.

It turns out that you don't have to, because the face peering down at you says something else and moves their head in a gesture that's familiar, but still confusing. You just wait to see what happens. Someone else comes into the room, in another outfit, but one color this time. The new person says something. It doesn't sound bad, so you close your eyes again, letting the sounds comfort you.

"Can you hear me?"

You open your eyes suddenly and look up at the person that's speaking. _Female, _your mind supplies. _Older, Caucasian. Redhead. _

"Yes," you say, and then smile, because you can understand her, too.

"Someone's glad to be up," she remarks. "I'm Paula, your nurse. Your call button is here," she indicates to a squarish object on the bed, "and these are your television controls. Do you need anything, Jack?"

"N-no," you start, and then frown. "What did you call me?"

"Your name. Jack Hunter?" she asks, picking up on your confusion.

You start to say something, and then stop. "I... I don't know."

After that, things happen in a hurry. You find out in quick order that you're in a hospital, because of an accident. You've been here three weeks, but it seems shorter because you've spent a lot of that unconscious. The doctors have diagnosed you with neurological damage, which is causing the amnesia and aphasia. That basically means that you can't remember much of anything, and have trouble understanding words or speaking sometimes. Neither one is upsetting to you as when the people around you call you "Jack". Jack has memories, family and friends. You have none of these.

You slowly start learning the people's names around you. Shawn, who visits only occasionally, but is nice when he comes. Shawn says that he and Jack are brothers, which is interesting, but does nothing for you. A girl named Rachel stops through too. You can tell that she had some kind of special relationship with Jack, because of the way she talks to you- full of pauses that used to have meanings, but don't anymore. Eric, who comes by almost everyday, doesn't ever say much, and is just mellow to be around. You also have people who come through just to say hi, like Cory and Topanga and Angela. They all seem nice, but a little distant.

Three more weeks pass, and the doctors want to send you home, but you don't have a home. Apparently you and your parents had a fight, because they know you're in here, but they haven't visited or anything. The way people talk about it, like they expect you to be sad, is vaguely annoying, because all they are to you is two more people you don't know. Eric volunteers to let you stay in the apartment with him and Shawn, which is fine with you. So the doctors release you with fanfare. They tell you how fortunate you are, because you weren't seriously injured physically. The only thing that troubles them is your ongoing memory problems, and the fact that you still have aphasia sometimes. They're not sure that your memory will ever return. You're more concerned that you were a total asshole previously and that no one will tell you.

As you walk into the apartment, Eric points out things to you, and Shawn tells you stories about what happened. You accept all of this knowledge, knowing that you won't remember half of this stuff later, but if it makes them feel good, it's okay.

Later, you look around your side of the room. Underneath your bed is a box full of different objects. There are a lot of pictures of people, some you don't recognize, and some of the people that visited you in the hospital. You notice a lot of pictures of you and Eric, and a lot of the group pictures, you two are always standing together. It makes you wonder if he and Jack had the same kind of history of Jack and Rachel.

The last thing you pull out of the box is a fat book. There's no title on the front, but when you open it up, there is Jack's name along with a set of dates. Curious to what it talks about, you sit on the bed and start reading.

_September 1_

_Okay, every school year I start this, and forget about it midway through November. This time, I'm determined to keep track of the stuff in my life. _

_So, today I guess was kinda important, because I left for college. Mom cried, and Artie kept telling me that he expected me to do something great with my education. I wanted to tell him, no shit, but I didn't feel like starting anything, so I let it slide. So, we got an apartment, and it's way too expensive for me by myself, so I started looking for roommates right away. Luckily, I found two right away. Their names are Eric Matthews and Rachel MacGuire. They seem nice, so hopefully we'll all get along._

_College doesn't seem all that different from high school yet. People still want to be popular, and everyone wants to be noticed. Me, I'll just be happy if I can get through the year without a repeat of last year._

You close the book and wrinkle your brow in confusion. You guess that Mom and Artie are your missing parents, and you know who Eric and Rachel are, but whatever happened last year (or the year before this was written) is of course, a mystery.

Deciding on a course of action, you get up off of the bed and go into the apartment's living room, where Eric is watching some show on television. He's laughing uproariously, so you stop and watch a few minutes of it. It doesn't seem very funny to you, so you shrug and sit down next to Eric. He looks at you and smiles. "Hey Jack!" His gaze falls to the little book that you have in your hand. "I see you found your diary."

"I guess. You ever read this?"

Eric throws up his hands. "Hey, would I do that?"

You stare at him blankly, because you really don't know.

Eric senses your confusion and says softly, "That would be a no. I respect your privacy. Plus, you never read my journal."

You nod and then say, "The reason I asked was because there's some stuff in here that doesn't make sense. And I was hoping that maybe Jack had talked to you about it."

Eric winces. "You're Jack!" He takes a breath and exhales. "Sorry. Okay, what about?"

You show him the first entry in the notebook. He scans it quickly and hands the notebook back to you. "Um, that's probably something you're better off not remembering." His voice shakes a little, and his gaze falls to your... hands?

"What?" you ask automatically, looking down at your hands too. Eric takes them and gently turns them over. You see faint white scars on the insides of your wrists, which Eric traces with his fingers.

"You really want to know?" He asks seriously, gaze never leaving your hands.

You swallow nervously, not because you know what he's going to say, but because of the way he's still touching you. "I'm sure."


	2. chapter 2

Chapter Two

Eric looks into your eyes, which seems to reassure him. He takes another deep breath before continuing, "I guess it really started your junior year, the end of it. You and this guy, you hooked up. And you dated all through the summer and into your senior year." He drops his eyes back to your hands. "The guy was like, your first everything. And you two thought that it would be forever. But he was having problems at home and a lot of other stuff was going on with him. Um, one day, you came to his house, to find that... he was gone."

"Gone physically?"

"I mean, he was dead. He had hung himself in his bedroom, and you were the first person to discover him."

The words make you shiver, but you still feel distanced from the story. Eric notices your shudder and says, "I can stop if you want."

"No, go ahead."

"Well, you took the news pretty hard. You told me that you almost didn't graduate because you missed so much school. And May rolled around, which would have been yours and his anniversary. On the day that you two met, you did this."

"Then why am I here?"

"I guess they weren't deep enough, or something. But apparently it was serious, because you saw a counselor for about a year afterward."

You nod, slowly. It's a lot of information to take in at once. Then you ask, "So, it was like, depression or something?"

"Yeah. Um, you used to take some kind of pills, but I guess that you don't need them anymore. Well, this conversation..." Eric trails off and gets up. "I think I need a breather. Going for a walk, wanna come?"

"Okay."

The two of you walk around your apartment building, and then down the stairs, heading outside. Eric points out eating places that you both enjoyed, and he promises that he'll take you there one day.

When you get back to the apartment, Shawn's there, watching TV, as usual. "Hey," he greets the two of you and waits for your greeting before turning his attention back.

You go back in the bedroom and open the notebook again. You flip a few pages until an few sentences catch your eye.

_February 14_

_Another Valentines' Day. I feel bad for so many reasons, so I'd thought I'd write them out. I guess, first and foremost, I still miss him. I can't even write _his _name without wanting to cry. And knowing that last year, all of the things he planned for us that day... _

_I guess I'm still not all of the way better. The pills help a little, but maybe I'll talk to Dr Bery about it._

_Also, the fact that I'm alone today sucks too. Not to mention the fact that my crush on my best friend is still unrequited. _

You close the book and think for a second. Whatever Jack went through, it wasn't easy. You had a mental image of him growing up in this picture perfect house, with little versions of him and Shawn running around. Of course, you know better now.

You open the book a final time and read one of the last entries.

_March 10_

_I can't believe how much has changed since my last entry. The day after Valentines', I went over to the union, and ran into Eric. An everyday occurrence, except that instead of drinking coffee and clowning around, he was sitting quietly. I asked him what was up, and he said something about being alone yesterday made him think. I told him that I agreed with him, and somehow we got to talking. I even talked about _him _without breaking down. Eric said something about admiring my courage, which is a laugh because I certainly haven't told him exactly how I feel about him. _

_Anyway, long story short, I did tell him. He didn't react like I thought he would- that is, screaming or punching me. He actually kissed me._

_A lot of other stuff happened. Like, we talked some more and everything. But I can't write it all down. It doesn't seem real yet, even a month later. I think it's gonna take a while to sink in._

After you read that, you put the notebook back in the box and lay on the bed, thinking. Obviously, Eric and Jack were as close as you thought they were. And it was still relatively new, too. You could see why Jack would love Eric because Eric's just the kind of guy that given half a chance, you could fall in love with.

Actually, going over the words you just thought, you think that you might not remember the things that Jack does, but that doesn't mean that feelings can't transfer over.

The school year ends, and usually, everyone goes back home. Eric says that he's staying in the apartment, and Shawn is too, so you don't feel bad when you tell your parents that you're staying in town for the summer. They try to convince you to come home, but for you, home is right in the apartment, with your friends.

You get a job, working at a bookstore. You've become a big reader, and you read almost anything. The first time you came home with a new book, you showed the title to Eric, who said that he had read that a long time ago. Now the two of you discuss books, which is weird, according to Shawn, but seems just right to you.

The summer passes quickly and everyone starts classes again, except for you. Although the doctors reassure you that you're just as smart as ever, you feel that you're missing a lot of information. So you keep reading, mostly mysteries and thrillers. Jeffery Deaver and Dick Francis are two of your current favorites.

Mostly, you're pretty happy with the way that everything is going. From what you've learned about Jack, he was under a lot of stress to succeed in college, and a lot of that stress was self-inflicted. So having the opportunity to just relax is good.

The only thing you'd like to change is the way your friends react to you sometimes. Sometimes, they expect you to react the same way to things that Jack would, which can't happen, because you don't know how Jack would have reacted. Also, there's some tension between some of the people, which you should know about, but don't. You want to ask what's happening, but who would you ask?

You and Eric start spending more time together, as opposed to say, Rachel, who barely speaks to you on a good day. You don't think she's doing it on purpose, but then again, she could be. You're not getting enough clues either way. Shawn is cool with you. Sometimes he'll sit and tell you things about your father, your real one. His picture was in your box, and from what Shawn tells you, you think you would like him. Cory and Topanga (try as you might, you always think of them together) are nice too, but a little distant. Of course, they're wrapped in each other, so they're not really paying attention to anyone. Angela also isn't close to you, but she confides once that you two are closer now than you were before.

You don't tell Eric that you know about his and Jack's relationship, but you really don't have to say anything at all. You two are still close enough that a lot of things go unspoken between you. You want to ask him if he would ever go out with you again, but the words stick him your throat. What if he thinks that you're different now?

One day, you come home from work, excited about your promotion at work, you find that that everyone's gathered in the apartment, and something big has happened. You look around the room, to Cory's puzzled expression, Topanga's almost angry one, Shawn and Angela's identical faces with shock written on them, and finally, to Eric's closed expression. Knowing that you probably shouldn't be here, you turn to leave, but Topanga calls you back.

"I think you need to hear this, Jack." Her voice is clear and determined, and it briefly flashes through your mind that a lawyer is the perfect career for her.

"Jack's got nothing to do with this." Eric's voice sounds weary, and the small protest you're about to make dies on your lips when you look at Eric again. This time, his face is openly vulnerable to you. He has pleading in his eyes.

At Eric's words, Topanga softens somewhat, but her words are still frosty. "Fine." she says simply and motions for you to take a seat. You sit on the floor beside Eric's chair, and feel content when he starts absentmindedly stroking your hair.

"Shouldn't Rachel be here?" Angela asks quietly.

You notice the brief look that passes between Shawn and Cory before Topanga says, "She says that she's coming, so don't get started without her." Topanga gives a short brittle laugh and adds almost to herself, "Because we really want to do that."

You realize that you're missing a whole lot of clues in this conversation, and you want someone to fill you in, but Eric's fingers are still moving hypnotically over your scalp, and all you want to do is close your eyes and feel that feather light touch.

When Rachel finally walks in the door, looking confused, Topanga gives her all of two seconds before launching into her. From what you can follow of the conversation, Rachel was entrusted with a secret and she immediately went and told. Rachel is a first apologetic, but then grows defensive, which sets Angela and Cory off. Shawn just sits there, still shocked.

In the midst of all the confusion, Eric takes advantage of the situation and pulls you to your feet. He silently leads you to your bedroom and you two sit on the bed. "Sorry about that," he says, taking one of your hands in his and starts tracing your wrists. You relax into the touch, until Eric notices what he's doing and stops abruptly. "Sorr-"

"It's okay," you tell him. "I like it."

He nods and resumes the tracing. "I used to do this all the time. Guess I hadn't really thought about it until now."

This would be the perfect moment to ask Eric what you already know, but he stands up and the moment passes.

"Ready to go back out there?" he asks you.

"Give me a minute," you say. Your head is spinning, and you put your head in your hands, trying to stem the growing headache you feel coming on.

"Are you okay?" You feel Eric sitting back on the bed. He touches your head, and the soft touch feels good, but does nothing to stop the pain.

"Headache," you groan, clenching your hands a little harder, hoping that the pressure will help.

"Oh. You used to get those a lot. Think it was stress related." Eric gets off the bed and starts moving around the room. "You have some pills somewhere." After a minute, he leaves the room, hitting the light switch on the way out and leaving you in darkness.

You stretch out fully on the bed, but moan when your head hits the pillow, so you sit back up and just close your eyes. You hear the door opening and Eric enters. "Here you go," he says, handing you a small package and a glass of water.

You take the small pills and follow them up with the water. "Thanks," you tell Eric. "You take good care of me."

"Always have," Eric says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "Okay. I'm kicking everyone out. Those suckers will knock you out after they hit."

"They can stay if they need to," you protest weakly.

"Nah. They do have other places of residence." He leaves out of the room, and before he closes the door, you hear more shouting.

As predicted, the medicine knocks you out, and the last thing you remember is Eric coming back in the room and pulling the covers over you.

A few hours later, you wake up disoriented until you remember the events of the afternoon. You touch your head tentatively when it occurs to you that the headache is totally gone. You bless the absence of pain as you move through the apartment. Shawn's sitting on the couch, reading something. You greet him, startling him. "Sorry," you apologize, feeling bad.

"It's okay," he replies, waving his hand. "Anyway, you feeling better?"

"Yeah. Where's Eric?" You ask, looking around.

"He had to run somewhere. He'll be back." Shawn says vaguely and turns his attention back to his book.

Non-plussed by that statement, you turn around and go back into your bedroom. You go into your box and pull out what is your favorite picture of you and Eric. According to the date on the back, it was taken shortly after you and he started going out. The two of you are staring at the camera, and although the two of you aren't looking at each other, your hands are linked. You look at it a second longer before sticking it back into the box and sliding it back under your bed.

You stretch out on your bed and tuck your hands behind your head. You drift off again until you hear some voices out in the living room.

"...was asking about you," one of the people says. It takes a beat to realize that the speaker is Shawn. He's endeavoring to be quiet, but you can hear everything he says clearly. "Just tell him already!"

"It's not that easy," the second person- Eric- replies.

"Why not!"

"Look, I don't want to talk about it." Eric's voice starts coming closer and you realize that he's coming in the bedroom. You hurriedly close your eyes and roll over, hoping that he won't notice your rapid breathing. The door opens, and you hear various noises as Eric moves around the room. You hear the creak as he sits on his bed, and then lies down. His breathing becomes more regular as he falls asleep, and you lay still, listening to him, feeling oddly comforted.


	3. chapter 3

Chapter Three

After that day, there's a weird tension in the group that you pick up on. Whatever the big secret was, it was something that didn't need to be revealed. You are about the only person who can talk to everyone else, because they know you didn't have anything to do with it.

Of course, this doesn't help your dilemma. You still look at Eric more than anyone else, and wish you had the courage to tell him how you feel, but your fear of getting shot down holds you back.

One day, you're leaving for work late, and hurrying. You rush past a couple and are a distance away from them before you realize that they were kissing, and that one of the men was Eric. Once your head processes this, your heart sinks to your feet. All you can think is that you've waited too late.

For all of your newfound closeness with Eric, he never mentions the mystery man, and you never ask.

As you're going through the days, a thought occurs to you. Your presence is not necessary anymore. Your friends have lives of their own, and "Let's Baby-sit Jack" isn't something that they need to do.

The phone rings, startling you. "Hello?" you say shakily.

"Jack, hi, it's your mother."

You look over at a picture of her. "Um, hi." Unsure of how to proceed, you add, "How've you been?"

"Fine. Look, Artie and I were thinking that we were a little harsh. Could we try again? You can come home, and we could get to know each other."

You think about this offer. Then you say, "Okay. When can you come get me?"

Your mother laughs aloud. "Whenever you want us to, honey! Just tell me when, and I'll come pick you up."

"Tomorrow?" you suggest.

"That's fine," she replies quickly. "Thank you, Jack."

Thank you. 'Bye." You hang up the phone and wander through the apartment, picking up stuff that belongs to you. You go into the bedroom and pull out your box one last time. The picture you always look at is on the top, and you trace Eric's happy face before you place it back in the box and start packing.

Shawn comes in as you're taking some posters off the wall. "Redecorating?" he asks, head cocked.

You shake your head. "Packing. My mom called, and her and Artie want me home."

"And you said yes? When they asked you before, you told them no."

So many things are different now, you want to say but don't. "It think it's just time for a change."

Shawn starts to say something, stops, and walks out of the room. In a few minutes, he comes back in. "Um, you're not leaving because of me, are you," he says quietly.

"What? No! It's just that all of you guys are busy, you have your own lives and all. And... well, it's just time," you finish lamely, not wanting to burden Shawn with your troubles.

Shawn nods, still not convinced. "Are you going to tell anyone that you're leaving?"

"Sure, I guess," you reply absentmindedly. Shawn leaves and you turn your attention back to your work.

You forget to tell anyone else about your plans, and it doesn't occur to you until you're in your old room at home. You're finished unpacking when your mother pokes her head in your room.

"Whenever you're ready, we're going out to dinner, okay?"

You shrug. "Fine with me."

Your parents fail to mention that you are not eating alone. There are two other families, and apparently their kids and you grew up together. That, of course, doesn't help you, as you look at each other silently.

Finally, one of the girls, Tania, asks, "I heard you work in a bookstore?"

Grateful for the question, you start a conversation about your job and books in general. You are almost sorry to see her go when you leave.

"So, you and Tania were hitting it off," Artie says on the way home.

"Yes," you say cautiously.

"You should give her a call sometime," he adds casually.

At first, your blood runs cold, but then you are burning hot. Your parents think you don't know about you and Eric, and are thinking that you can just be straight, never knowing about your past. Even thinking about never being with Eric again makes you shiver.

"Jack?" Your mother says softly.

"Sorry. Um, sure," you reply hastily. Your parents seem satisfied about this, and you turn your attention back out the window.

The next day, Eric comes to your house, apparently fresh from class. "Why did you leave?" he demands as soon as you let him into the door.

You stammer through your excuses about needing a change. Eric shakes his head impatiently.

"I know you too well to let you get by with that excuse. Are you mad at me?"

"Why does everyone keep saying that? I'm not mad at anyone."

"You left for a reason, didn't you?"

All of the reasons you have float into your head, but you don't say anything for the same reason you didn't tell Shawn.

Eric sighs and prepares to leave. "Well, if you ever feel like talking, give me a call."

You nod and walk him to the door. As you stand in the doorway awkwardly, you blurt out, "I saw you that day."

"What day?" Eric's face is honestly confused.

"That day in the courtyard. With that guy."

Eric's face goes from the confusion to totally closed. "Oh," he says softly. He turns around swiftly and walks away. You stand there, stock still, and wonder what just happened here.

Afterwards, there's silence on Eric's side, and you're still wondering why that statement would cause such a reaction. You puzzle it out for two days, and then call Shawn.

"What did you do?" he asks as soon as you greet him.

"I'm not sure," you answer honestly.

Shawn sighs. "He's moping around the house like someone kicked his puppy. Want to tell me what happened?"

You do, starting with your reading the journal and ending with Eric's leaving your house. "And I don't understand how me saying that would have caused the reaction it did."

"Look, I'm not sure either. You said you were reading in your journal. I don't know what's in there, but I can tell you what I know."

Shawn goes on to tell you that when you arrived at school, you didn't tell anyone about your past. In fact, you dated women exclusively and voraciously, including Rachel. "When Eric came out to us, you didn't say anything, but I think you gave him the impression that you weren't too accepting. It wasn't until you two were going out that I found out why."

"Because of what happened the year before," you muse.

"And I think Eric is flashing back to that," Shawn concludes.

"So what do I do?"

"Give him a call, for starters. Let him know how you feel." Shawn stops and then sighs. "Look, I gotta go. You got me sounding all touchy-feely."

You laugh and hang up the phone.

A day later, you make good on your promise. You dial the apartment and Eric answers. "Please don't hang up," you say quickly.

"Jack? Is that you?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry for the other day." You figure if you get the apology out of the way, then maybe Eric will listen to what you have to say next.

"I'm sorry I overreacted," he replies softly, totally derailing your speech.

"Um, okay. Can we be friends again now?" You ask, while you're picking at a worn spot on your jeans. It's just as well that Eric can't see your face, because you're biting your lip in anticipation of his answer.

"Of course." He sounds surprised. "We didn't stop being friends, Jack."

"It felt that way."

"It felt that way when you left and wouldn't tell anyone why!"

"I felt like I was being a burden, okay? Like everyone had to baby-sit me, especially you." You're breathing hard by the time you end, feeling like a weight is on your chest.

"Why do you feel that way? You worked, you contributed like the rest of us." Eric sounds really confused, and you're frustrated that you're not expressing yourself better.

"You couldn't..." Love me, is what you want to say, but you know that'll just sound wrong. So you end up with, "I just felt that way."

"I still don't understand why!" Eric exclaims, and you hear the obvious frustration building up in him.

For the second time this week, your mouth moves before your brain. "Why don't you want me aymore?"

For about a minute, there's complete silence. You almost think Eric has hung up when you hear him say, "What?"

"I read all of the journal," you confess miserably. "I saw where we went out."

"Why didn't you tell me that you had read the journal?" he asks.

"Why didn't you tell me that we went out?" you shoot back. If nothing else, you're getting answers out of this today.

"I didn't want you to feel, I don't know, pressured," he answers seriously. "If we go out again, I want it to be because we want to, not because you feel you have to."

"I want to," you blurt out. "But I thought you didn't want to." Then something else occurs to you. "What about that guy? The one I saw."

"He actually isn't in the picture. He used to be, a long time ago. But not now. Now, back to the whole you want to go out with me thing. When did this happen?"

You squirm before realizing that you're on the phone. "A while ago. I just thought, I don't know. Is it yes or no?"

"Shall I circle the box?" Eric asks. You don't get the reference, so you let it pass by and finally he says, "I think this is something we need to discuss face to face."

After work the next day, Shawn comes and gets you in an unfamiliar car. You hesitate before you get in. "Have I ridden in here before?" you ask Shawn, just to be safe.

"Nope. It just looks bad on the outside, though." He pats the dash lovingly. "Still gets around."

You drive to campus, listening to the radio. Shawn lets you out at the apartment. "Angela's dragging me to this poetry thing," he grumbles, but from the look of eagerness on his face, she didn't have to drag too hard.

"Have a good time. Thanks for the ride!" You get out of the car and walk slowly to the apartment.

Eric answers the door when you knock. You sit down at his offer, and then proceed to stare at each other.

"About what we were saying-" you start.

"I was thinking about what we said-" Eric begins at the same time.

Instead of breaking the tension, it heightens until you finally say, "I really want to," smiling.

You guess you sound sincere because Eric's whole demeanor lightens.

"You're serious?" he exclaims.

You nod, smiling harder. "Unless you don't want to."

"Oh, you, come here."

The kiss you experience is your first as far as your concerned. You feel as if you might die from lack of air, but you're too busy thinking that this would be a great way to go.

Eric must be thinking the same thing you are, because he breaks the kiss and takes great gulps of air. "Oh man," he gasps, "You haven't lost that skill."

"Good to know," you say, and then you take his hand in yours. You're amazed at how right it feels. "Can we tell everyone now?"

"What about your parents?" Eric asks.

"Seeing as how they're still not accepting who I am, I figured that I'd be more welcome here."

"So, you're coming back?" Eric grins. "Cool, a boyfriend and live in lover, all in one day."

So, you repack at your parents, thank them for at least trying (but you don't use those words) and come back to the apartment. Eric and you are still going slow, but it's okay with you that he doesn't want to rush- you don't either.

One day, you wake up and realize something. It's been almost a year since the accident. The box that still resides under your bed is as much of your past that you'll ever have. For some reason(probably all the reading you do) you thought that one day, you'd remember everything, the good and bad. After the doctors' repeated tests, all they can tell you is everything is working normally, except your memory.

For some reason, though, this doesn't strike you as bad. You look around at your friends, at Shawn, and at Eric, and think that this is all that you need to remember- love of friends and family.

END


End file.
